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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Fitz

I sat at Sparky’s kitchen table having coffee while Monty gave the kid a good look to be sure there was nothing life-threatening. Like Sawyer, Monty had received some medical training from his time in the Marines, and I hoped to hell he could tell if the kid had internal bleeding. I was pretty sure there were a couple of fractured ribs, based on the bruising on his torso.

“You think that kid is in any shape to fight? God, he looks like he should be in the hospital.” Sparky swirled his coffee mug as he stared at me.

“I’m not pushing him to fight, I promise you. Fuck, I agree with you. He should be in the hospital. Problem is, he’s over eighteen and he has his own mind.”

Sparky nodded. “Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass, ain’t it.”

“On our jog over here, he said he owes that fight to the club. They hired him at Cowpokes, and he claims it kept him off the streets. He has a place to sleep, food to eat, and medical care, plus he has his own money. He says having to be drug tested every week, along with all the other tests the workers undergo, kept him from the same damn addiction that killed his parents. Sawyer’s rule is one shot—one bad test of any drugs in his system, and he’s out. He wants to repay a debt he believes he owes. How do I stop him?”

I wasn’t bullshitting. I was serious when I asked the question. With everything going on, I was sure I only knew about ten percent of the bullshit TJ had suffered in his young life, and I was looking for someone, anyone, who had some advice on how to help the kid.

Sparky sipped his coffee as he glanced outside where Monty was sitting on a chair talking to TJ as he soaked in the freezing bath of ice. Monty was an amazing guy. He and Sparky just fit together like a beautiful puzzle.

I was jealous because they had a bond I wanted to have with Sawyer. With this bullshit happening between him and Keller, I was at a loss of what to do to make it better.

Sparky sat back and sighed. “It’s hard to make anyone learn from our mistakes, isn’t it? I walk a fine line with my son. I want to keep him from doing some of the same stupid shit I did over my life, but Monty tells me I can’t keep Hardy from making his own mistakes. That’s the only way he’ll learn. I think that applies to TJ.”

“If this fight goes off the rails, I’m not sure what Sawyer might do, Sparky. I love him and I don’t want this club rivalry to wreck the future I believe we could have.”

Monty stepped inside. “Babe, I forgot a towel. Do you mind?” Sparky grinned and walked out of the kitchen.

“How’s he doing? Will this fight kill him?” I damn well didn’t want anything to happen to the kid.

“Leave him with me for a little while. I boxed when I was in the Marines. Not anything official. Underground shit from base to base, but I had to be ready to be deployed at any moment, and my chain of command had no desire for me to say I was in too much pain to leave because I’d had a fight the night before. Let me help him. What time is the fight tomorrow night?” Monty was obviously waiting for my answer, but it was ultimately up to TJ.

“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him. Sawyer has tried to keep me out of this shit, but I’m stubborn.” That wasn’t a lie.

Sparky came back with a large beach towel, and Monty kissed his lips before heading out to the tank. TJ got out and wrapped the towel around himself as Monty took him over to a hot outdoor propane heater and pushed him into a wicker chair to warm up.

I walked outside and sat in a chair next to him. “How do you feel?”

The handsome kid grinned. “I feel good. I’ll be ready for the fight, Fitz, don’t you worry. And don’t let Sawyer worry.”

I stared at him for a moment. “TJ, I think this is a bad idea. You fighting I mean. We don’t know if you have any internal injuries, and if you do, this could kill you.”

TJ grinned. “Aw, come on, Fitz. I think you like a challenge just as much as me. There’s a lot riding on this fight, and I’m not letting anyone down.”

I swallowed. “Who are you worrying about letting down, TJ?”

“Everyone.”

He groaned as he stood and shuffled down the hallway. “Nature calls. I’ll be right back.”

I exhaled and glanced at Monty. “Can he fight? Will we be attending a funeral this time next week?”

“Fuck, I hope not.”

Later, Sawyer stepped into the kitchen at Sparky and Monty’s house, a grin on his face. TJ was dressed in his running clothes again, and while he got dressed, I’d ducked into the powder room off the kitchen with a couple of paper towels to do a dirty wipe under my arms. I didn’t think I smelled, but I didn’t want to be nose blind.

“Babe, you ready? I’m starving.” Sawyer walked over and kissed me. I planned to relish every kiss because the future was fucking uncertain. I didn’t know everything going on, but my heart was heavy at the prospect of not waking up to that man in my arms.

We headed to the back door that was open, leading to a screened porch. Outside, TJ was tossing a tennis ball into the large backyard, and Dixie rushed after it, bringing it back to him and giving him a doggy grin. She dropped it at his feet and gave him a lick on the hand as he reached for it.

“Yeah, uh, I’m ready. I’ll get TJ, and we can go for breakfast. After we eat, we’ll go back to the house.” I turned to Monty. “Can you drop him off later so he can spend some time with his grandfather in case…” I ran out of words for probably the first time in my life.

Monty nodded. “I will, Fitz.”

If the kid had an underlying condition and got hit the wrong way, he’d drop dead on the mat, never to rise again. Could I have that shit on my conscience?

Sawyer dropped me off at home, kissing my cheek and leaving in my truck with a quick “I’ll call you later.” I wasn’t sure where he was going, and it was yet another worry for me.

I puttered around the garage, going through a bunch of nuts, bolts, and screws I’d found in a box when I was cleaning out the things the last tenant had left behind. She’d left empty jars, so I sorted the screws from the nails from the bolts like a ninety-year-old man who had lived through the Great Depression and threw away nothing.

TJ came in through the open garage door. “Whatcha doing?”

I glanced at him. “Nothing of importance. I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”

“Monty got a call from Sparky, so he dropped me off. I’m going to do some stretching in the backyard that he showed me and alternate hot and cold compresses on my ribs like Monty said. He showed me some things to do to loosen up. Where’s Grandpa Jim?” He glanced toward the house.

“He was in the living room listening to a true crime podcast before I came out here. I’m going into the office before I go stir-crazy. Mrs. Kowalski’s scheduled to be here after lunch, and I should be back around five. Don’t open the door for anyone, okay? Mrs. K has a key, and so do I. Nobody else.”

Without waiting for a response, I went inside the house and changed into jeans and a dress shirt. God, I wanted TJ to spend time with his grandfather. I knew in my heart it would destroy the old man if anything happened to the kid.

My stomach roiled at the idea of either of them being without the other. The possibility of having no one in the world who knew you and loved you made my heart heavy.

“Okay, Fitz. Have a good day.”

I walked out the front door and hopped into my waiting Uber.

When I arrived at the office, I slid out after giving the guy an extra tip over what I tipped on the app. I went in through the front door. “Hello, Denise.”

I walked through the gate leading from the swamp to my desk, seeing a few of my coworkers were seated at their desks and working on something. I reached for my gun, but it wasn’t on my belt like normal.

I remembered I’d given it to Sawyer to take with him to the Scorpions’ clubhouse. I still hadn’t heard from the Mesquite PD about my Glock they’d taken when they’d showed up at that shit show of a shooting at Mr. Middleton’s house, so I pulled out my wallet, found the receipt, and called the station.

After the phone was answered, I requested Gale West, the officer who had taken my gun. A couple of minutes later, he came on the line. “Officer West.”

“Good morning. I’m Fitz Morgan, a fugitive recovery agent from Las Vegas. You took my Glock 22 into custody when there was the shooting—”

He interrupted. “The shooting of that gangbanger and the retired LA cop. How are you, Mr. Morgan. I had you on my call sheet for today. Great minds think alike.”

I didn’t know anything about that, so I chuckled. “Sure. Is my gun cleared? Can I come pick it up?”

“Yes, it’s back from ballistics in Carson City. You’re welcome to pick it up anytime. I’ll be here until four this afternoon.” I glanced at the clock to see it was just ten, so I decided to go now.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Thanks, Officer.” I hung up and shoved my phone in my pocket as I headed to Sparky’s office to tell him I needed to run an errand. It was then I remembered I didn’t have my truck, Sawyer did. I had no idea where it was or what he was doing. That thought formed a knot in my gut.

I sighed and knocked on the doorframe. Sparky was going through the logbook he kept for bond refunds to match it against the computer log that Denise kept. Some men had a hard time letting go of pen and paper.

“I was going to tell you that I needed to run an errand, but I just remembered I don’t have my truck. I need to go to Mesquite to pick up my gun from that murder scene I was at last week.”

“Yeah, uh, come in and have a seat. No, wait.” He glanced out the window of his office. “How about I give you a ride to Mesquite, and we have a little talk on the way.”

I swallowed. This was the hard-assed bail bondsman I’d had glimpses of in my short time working at Sparks Bail Bonds. I didn’t want to get on his wrong side, so I nodded.

I was older than Sparky by five years, heavier than him by at least twenty-five pounds, and taller than him by half a foot. Monty, his husband, dwarfed me in every way. Jesse Sparks, however, was more intimidating than Monty and me, put together.

“Uh, sure. I’ll grab a couple of bottles of water and meet you at the trap truck.” I didn’t wait for his response. I hurried to the kitchen, grabbed the water, and went outside through the back door.

I got into the truck where Sparky was already waiting, the fast fucker. He started the ignition, pulled out onto South Rainbow, and headed toward the highway. We had about an hour and a half together in the cab of that old truck, and for the first ten minutes, we said nothing. It was unnerving.

Once we were on the highway, Sparky glanced at me. “You’re not going to the hangin’ tree, Fitz.”

I laughed. “You scare the shit outta me sometimes. I guess you wanna know the background on that bullshit I dropped on your doorstep this morning?”

“That’s a start.”

“You know Sawyer is the president of the Pahrump Steel Cowboys. You were involved in that shit that happened with Giuseppe Torrente and his wife being kidnapped. Dallas enlisted your help in saving the couple.”

Sparky nodded.

“Well, it seems that even though his father retired and the members voted Sawyer into the presidency, his father never stopped manipulating things behind the scenes. According to Sawyer, his father instigated the robbery at Tumbleweeds Dispensary a few weeks ago with some of the older members of the Cowboys.”

Sparky moved into the right lane, but he didn’t slow down. “Betrayal is a horrible thing. It’s soul crushing. How’s that kid involved?”

“TJ works at one of the brothels the club owns in Pahrump. He’s also an MMA fighter, and he’s supposed to fight tomorrow night. It’s his first sanctioned fight in the MMA world, and it’s rigged. Sawyer was planning to make a bet on the fight to earn the money back that the Scorpions stole from the dispensary, but he found out his father was pulling the strings, unbeknownst to Sawyer.

“At the time you were all dealing with the Corsicans and the Scorpions, Keller Abbott made a deal with the Scorpions that if they didn’t kill Sawyer, the Cowboys would turn over their turf to the Scorpions, and they’d all merge into the Scorpions.” The idea of what Keller had done to Sawyer by undermining him made me so angry I was biting out the words.

“Does Sawyer have the allegiance of enough of his club members to fight his father?” It was a damn good question, but not one I could answer.

“I’m not sure. Hell, at this point, I’m not sure if Sawyer knows the answer himself.”

Sparky nodded. “I don’t make a habit of getting involved in shit like this. It’s not a good look if one of my bounty hunters goes to jail for doing illegal shit, you know?” Sparky glanced my way, so I nodded.

“Is there a chance Sawyer would follow his father into the Scorpions?”

“No. He’s been working damn hard to clean up the Cowboys. Getting them into legitimate businesses has been his goal, and he’s been successful at it. They have the two brothels in Pahrump and the dispensary here in Vegas. He's talked about sectioning off some of the land the Cowboys have for their compound and making minibike and dune buggy tracks for tourists. They had enough money in their savings until the robbery, and they had to change cannabis suppliers to be able to reopen.”

I went on to explain to him about Ricky Marlow and Keller Abbott setting everything up to take down the Cowboys so the Scorpions can take over their territory, and lastly, I explained and about the fight. We were taking the exit for Mesquite by the time I was done. I was fucking exhausted by just telling the story.

“Okay. Let me think about all this. Let’s pick up your gun and then stop and get something to eat on the way back,” Sparky said.

We pulled into the parking lot of the Mesquite Police Department. It must have been equipment cleaning day because all the trucks, vans, and armored vehicles were out of the multiple garages on the property and on the parking lot.

“You got your badge?” Sparky looped the chain around his neck. I reached into my back pocket and pulled mine out, mirroring his actions.

We got out of the truck, and I went inside while Sparky walked over to join several people who were looking over the vehicles and asking questions. Who knew why.

I went into the building and headed to the counter, offering a non-threatening grin to the young woman behind the computer. She was on the phone, so I glanced around and waited until she hung up. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Officer West. Name’s Fitz Morgan.”

She nodded and picked up the phone. I took a seat and stared out the window where Sparky was laughing and speaking to a group of officers who seemed friendly. I wondered what the fuck they were talking about.

“Mr. Morgan.”

I turned to see Gale West standing at the desk. He was a large man with bright hazel eyes and a skeptical smile. If I didn’t have the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life, I’d do a very poor attempt at flirting and embarrass myself by asking him out for a date.

I stepped forward with my hand extended. “Officer West. Good to see you again. I’m here for my gun.”

Officer West nodded and motioned for me to follow him, so I did. He led me through a common area and back to a large metal desk. “Take a seat.”

I sat in the metal and vinyl chair next to his desk and waited. Officer West began leafing through files in his bottom drawer. He pulled out a manila folder and tossed it onto his desk, flipping it open.

He scanned the papers inside before he grabbed a small plastic bag containing a key from the folder. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Morgan.”

I nodded. I glanced around the station to see several cops sitting at desks and not giving a flying fuck about why I was there. That was a relief.

A few minutes later, West returned with an evidence bag and offered a grin as he placed the bag on the desk in front of me. “Cleared of ballistics. The only prints on it were yours. Will you sign this, please?”

I took the papers he offered and scanned them before I picked up the pen he offered and scrawled my name on the line. I handed the pen and paper to West, and opened the bag, checking the chamber to see if it was clear.

“Thank you, Officer. You have my number if you have any more questions. By the way, what’s going on outside?” I pointed toward the window.

“First responder day. We take the vehicles out of the garages and let the school kids come by for pictures. It’s a community outreach program. We try to make sure our citizens know they’re protected.”

I nodded. “That’s great, Officer. Have you been called out to the Scorpions’ clubhouse lately?”

West stared at me for a moment. “Calls? Scorpions? What do you know about the Scorpions? The bugs? I don’t think they can use a phone.” Then he laughed.

“That’s what I thought.” I stood and walked out.